There are numerous theories on how the universe came to be. Some claim it came in a burst of heat and energy, an explosion of such destruction it instead created. Some contend it came about in a single spontaneous moment, beget by a random fluctuation of quantum particles. Others say it was born of the remains of a previous universe; one broken by the great march of time. But I believe something different. The universe was created by a being. A being of such power a single thought created all that is known. GOD.

I awoke in darkness, the last echoes of a voice spilling into infinity. Nothing but void for as far as I could sense. My existence was new and I knew not what was possible. What I was. For a time, seconds, or eons it mattered not, I basked in that void. In the solitude and peace found in the still black. And I built myself. Plucked fragments of concepts out of infinity and pieced by self together, concept by concept, piece by piece. Finally, my long period in the womb of the void began to approach the end. I was almost completed and beginning to grow bored of the endless void. Then it happened. The final piece was added and I was born. Gears began to turn, ideas began to revolve. For the first time in my timeless existence, I began to think. New ideas sprang into being and old ideas were discarded. The void shifted as my ideas were brought into existence, only to be destroyed once more. More time passed. This time in experimentation and contemplation rather than simply basking in the void. Finally, the time came.

“Let There Be Light” I commanded.

Thought became mandate and reality obeyed. Light was born in that instant. It spread out in a brilliant flash, destroying the void and leaving space in its wake. A safe pocket in the void was created, an empty canvas waiting for the touch of a master.

Stolen novel; please report.

And I was that master.

With a thought a portion of the light condensed and the first star was born, a massive ball of pure energy. After a bit of tweaking, I made it self-sufficient and moved on to other things. For the first time since my self-conception, I felt alive. I was creating something wondrous. And I couldn't get enough. I created stars and nebulas and galaxies and planets. Matter and energy appeared and rampaged throughout the burgeoning universe. I created more and more, filled the universe with unimaginable objects.

But I began to notice a problem.

There was no order, with planets and stars spontaneously popping in and out of existence in the same moment. So I took a step back, metaphorically of course, and observed what I had created. It was wondrous and messy. The beauty of a child's scribble. Bursting with life and energy, but with no order. So I observed and waited. The chaotic cycle I had started continued, only growing more vigorous. But I now had a solution,

“Let There Be Order” I commanded.

And in that command was an intricate set of rules, formulated in my long period of observance. With these rules, everything would be in order and the true beauty of my creation would shine forth. The laws were as much a part of it as were the energy and matter. And together they would create a masterpiece. And indeed the celestial bodies reached their equilibrium, an intricate dance of creation and destruction, give and take. I gazed upon the perfection I had created and I rejoiced. For a time I just watched the movement of the heavens, watched old stars die and new ones were born.

It was beautiful.

But something was missing.

The creation, while beautiful, was sterile. It lacked something. I pondered for eons more, idly gazing on my masterpiece. It came to me in a slow march of time. I was the only one observing my creation, the only one appreciating what I had birthed.

I was alone.